


The Fall of the Golden Age

by TheGoldenAppleofAsgard



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen, I wrong this on the challenge of upsetting Charmed... so let's see if it works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoldenAppleofAsgard/pseuds/TheGoldenAppleofAsgard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sweet little butterfly." The voice was familiar, a lilt in it just enough to taunt her mind with brushes of memories, but it was distorted in a way she couldn't define, darker, deeper, less kind as it crawled out of the darkness to curl around her head. Everything was foggy, muddled somehow, as if it drowned out the world to make her listen. Her heart beat a staccato against her ribs and she drew herself up as her daddy had taught her how, straightening her back and reaching to the wall for balance as she climbed to her feet, tripping just a little as she stood on the straggling end of the loosened bow at the back of her dress. </p><p>Her daddy taught her to never show fear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fall of the Golden Age

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charmed7293](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmed7293/gifts).



> LET THE SOB-FEST COMMENCE!

Her little legs were not that long and yet she ran as fast as she could, her once pristine buckled shoes now matte with the blackened dust that swept the hallways of the Lunanoff palace. The ship docks were overflowing with panic below the balconettes that raced by, the Guard rushing in the other direction, armed and fierce with their golden weaponry glowing bright in the dimming light. She didn't have much time to look. The larger hand that tugged her along was almost too tight and Seraphina fought the urge to squirm against the grip, lengthy adult legs almost much too long for her to keep up without falling.

The darkness was growing, crawling up the hallways behind them and the ships were pulling away from the dockyard, few at first, the hum of mechanical engines whirring to life drowning out the sibilant hiss of the creatures swarming the palace, their touch tainting everything they reached towards with dust and mire. Something caught at her ankle, a smoky substance solidifying just enough around her dirtied shoe to throw her balance and the frightened hiccup that burst out of her mouth as she wobbled drew the attention of her handmaiden, Andromedae taking her eyes off of her destination for the fraction of a second needed to check on her charge. 

That was when the screaming began. 

Seraphina dropped like a stone in a tumble as the speed with which her hand was released threw her back, her knees knocking the floor hard enough to send shocks through her legs and her dark head turned, eyes wide at the gaping maw of nothingness behind her. Beyond the tangled river of her own dark hair bleeding into the black of what was once a gilded hallway, there was nothing now but the terrified wide eyes of her maid and the drag of fingernails snapping as she clawed at the floor, her scream a note that shivered in the air so high that it stung to hear it. 

"DORA!" Her own voice was fraught with tears, throat scratched sore from news of the shadows release sweeping Lunanoff before the darkness struck, no word of her father come to ease her pain as she waited for his return. That silence, that feeling of loss and desolation intensified as Dora kept screaming, the sound so loud she couldn't tell whether or not she was still there or if the echo of it rang in her ears. She reached for her hands but it was too late and with a hush as absolute as the darkness, her scream was cut off like it had never been as Andromedae was swallowed up into the black mass. 

"YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!" Her cry was deafening in the sudden quiet and she felt so pitiful, curled there on that floor as sound washed away and light followed, the shadows curling in tightly around her, licking at the ruffle of her little socks and skirt hem, the brightly embroidered golden lace tarnished to a dull bronze as they wisped past. Seraphina shuffled back on the floor, felt marble below her hands as she had for years wandering the palace halls, but she could not see it and her crawl was slowed to a stop as she found the wall and realised her mistake. 

"Sweet little butterfly." The voice was familiar, a lilt in it just enough to taunt her mind with brushes of memories, but it was distorted somehow, darker, deeper, less kind as it crawled out of the darkness to curl around her head. Everything was foggy, muddled somehow, as if it drowned out the world to make her listen. Her heart beat a staccato against her ribs and she drew herself up as her daddy had taught her how, straightening her back and reaching to the wall for balance as she climbed to her feet, tripping just a little as she stood on the straggling end of the loosened bow of the sash at the back of her dress. Her daddy taught her to never show fear.

"What do you want?" Her voice trembled the slightest bit, but she followed the words with the fiercest look she could muster, fingers curled into fists ready to swing. She had been scolded for hitting before, an accidental scuffle with the Lunanovan prince resulting in conspicuous bruising that had them sitting on separate golden steps in the main palace foyer with supervision from evening meal until bedtime but she had no doubts that certain people, if this entity was indeed a person, could do with a little bit of bruising.

Little tendrils of smoke swathed the glittering floor around her feet and she couldn't see the way out, the columns of marble, the arches of the ceiling and the open curve of the balconettes all blended into shadows of nothing she couldn't seem to break through and a wide grin of white teeth glinted with menace before her, taller than her, a silhouette of black against the smoke and the shadows. And it was thin, a shape she had only ever seen bulked out in armour in times of crisis such as these, a face she had only ever seen as loving leering at her with discoloured golden eyes as though she were a meal to be devoured.

"...daddy?" And the word tasted wrong as she spoke it, the flavours of musk and the deep layers of planet cores without life, great chalky smears of dust cross her tongue that made her breath hitch and her back strike the wall as she stumbled. The grin widened, cruel, capricious, teeth barely shown in kindness now exposed in malice. This was not her daddy. Could not be her daddy.

"What's the matter, my angel?" Arms spread wide, a harmless gesture but for the claws that extended like twisted knives from his fingers and the voice was coaxing, a soft parallel of the one that had sung her to sleep many a time. Her daddy had always soothed her with lullabies in that voice when she was too small to understand how safe it was to dream in the dark, and how many times had he told her before he left that he would keep the twilight hours alive with stars to keep her company when he was gone? 

The dark was no longer safe.

It loomed in front of her wearing a face it had no right to, using words and thoughts and feelings that made her insides twist and her eyes wet. No, she would not cry. It would never feel the satisfaction of making her cry. Her daddy was strong. He had always been an example she would never falter in following. She would be strong. She would make him proud, even if he wasn't inside there to see her.

As hands reached for her, she whipped the loosened sash from her dress, wrapping a hurried satin loop around the thin wrist so close to her she could feel to the cold of space trying to seep into her skin and as she darted to the left, the way she had been headed, she yanked with all her might, the ungainly hiss of a thousand creatures rising in malevolent tones as the crash of a body striking marble gave her the chance to run.

Her shoes clattered against a floor she could not see, her hair blending so perfectly into the dark behind her that she could not tell if the creature was following, if it would catch her, and her pulse leapt in her throat like a thick lump she couldn't swallow. He could be right behind her. No, not 'he'. 'It'. That thing deserved nothing less. That thing would never be the man her father was. So hard was she in pushing herself that she almost missed the tiny sliver of light that slanted across her face in passing and she followed it, swerving towards it with a speed that astounded her expectations, ripping aside heavy velvet curtains to find herself on a shallow balcony directly over the dockyard. It was almost empty, fleets of Lunanovans gathered together to escape the fall of the Golden Age. Layers upon layers of docks leading down as far as the eye could see lay barren and then further, most likely descending deep into the planet crust. She had never seen the lower deck before, never seen the lower ranks of vessels nor learned their capabilities but that did not concern her now. A glint of gold drew her attention as voices clamoured for departure, a lovely gilded boat-ship still attached to the decking three stories below her and on the deck? 

A kind and rounded face looked up in horror at his home, the black infecting everything pure, everything golden about the Utopia of Lunanoff. His short frame was barely tall enough to peek over the rails, and his young eyes were frightened, face as sad as she'd ever seen it. She leaned over the stone parapet, waving her arms as wildly as she dared, the fabric of her sleeves ripping at the seams as she hollered his name, his slow-blink up at her like seeing the sun for the first time as a hopeful smile spread across his face, "Seraphina! You're alive!"

"Help me!" She screamed back, too focussed on memorising his face, too focussed on clinging to her last strings of happiness to block out the terrible thoughts of what her father had become. It was too much. She wasn't strong enough. She had thought she would be but in the face of reality she had failed and she was trapped at the mercy of a creature wearing her father's face. The very thought crushed at whatever faith she had left. The uncertainty shook her, little niggling voices chewing away at her resolution to fight. It was a strange feeling, like the voices were not even hers and at her back, the balcony blackened, the rich red swath of the velvet curtains withering to darkness as it crept across the marble floor towards her. 

She did not see.

"Climb up on the balcony! You have to jump!" And the groan of the clamps that held the Moon Clipper to the dockyard gave way, the purr of flawless engine work shaking the deck and the young Heir of Lunanoff looked up at her in fear, "Seraphina, there's no time! You have to jump!"

The stars were blinking out like gas lamps overhead and every light was sputtering around them like the flickers of a candle in a breeze, threatening to go out. The deck was below her and it was a long way down. A broken leg would be the least of her worries, right? With shaking hands, she climbed up onto the parapet, feeling exposed as the open air all around her buffeted her, clinging to the tissues of her skirt and tugging her forward. It was frightening and she gathered her courage around her like a cloak. She could do this. It would be easy. Just jump.

As she bent her legs, prepared to fall, ashen hands crawled around her waist, and she screamed, her best friend's face gaping up at her in horror as sharp teeth clamped like a large razored maw around the delicate bones of her shoulder, ripping through the fabric of her dress and sinking deep into her skin. Oh, how it hurt. Fire lanced up her neck and the front of her dress soaked through with blood.

"Seraphina!" The screams were muted, many people racing towards the deck-rails as the Moon Clipper pulled away and she heard the familiar voices of the Tsar and Tsarina, faded echoes as she hung limp in the hands that held her. They could not help her now. 

Her legs crumpled on the parapet, unable to hold her as she wilted in those arms, the only things that kept her from tumbling down into the endless black void of the dockyard and her hazy eyes were half-shuttered. She knew she was crying. She could feel the tack of wet streaks drying on her face but her arms hurt too much to brush them away. She could not move. She could not do anything.

The lights flickered out all around her, dying embers that gave way to black as sharp claws ran through her hair in a parody of comfort. The teeth released her, her arm and shoulder aching as though crushed in a vice, black mixing with blood over the bodice of her dress and she felt heavy in a way she had never experienced before, like gravity was dragging her down and the only thing that kept her afloat were those hands... familiar hands that always used to hold her. The pain that racked her body in waves was too strong for her to make a sound though she tried but her mouth wouldn't work, her throat sore and raspy, like it had been torn away with her shoulder and the way claw-tips caught at her scalp and ripped felt like tickling feathers after that.

"Say goodbye, precious one." The words were soft, gentle, in a voice she adored, and she couldn't remember why it hurt so much to hear it. It was a relief. It was a comfort. Her daddy had come back to say goodbye. That was good right? He loved her that much...

"Goodbye, daddy."

Those hands let go.

And she fell.


End file.
